


Avengers Anonymous is on the Cards

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Category: Avengers
Genre: Hijinks and Shennanigans while piloting the Helicarrier sloshed out of their collective minds, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Tumblr, based on the prompt "Black Widow -'How Drunk Are You Right Now?'"<br/>Things only go downhill from there as certain sloshed superheroes gain control of the Helicarrier...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avengers Anonymous is on the Cards

The Helicarrier lurched sideways with violent force, sending techs and agents slamming into stiff furniture, unforgiving metal walls and one another in a flurry of confusion.

Natasha Romanoff leapt off of a nearby filing cabinet, running several feet across the wall-turned-floor and continued on towards eh hearty sounds of singing echoing throughout the corridor. 

Another spasm occurred, tilting the entire secret flying base to the opposing side, forcing the assassin to use the entirety of her training just to remain upright. Quick reflexes saving Black Widow from taking a full double-mocha latte in the face as one of the command officers went flying past, clipboard still in hand and a surprised expression on the woman’s striking, ebony face.

Natasha snagged her arm in peripheral vision, yanking the woman to her feet beside the master assassin; only waiting until Agent…  _Mirren_ , the name-tag read… was stabilised before striding off towards the command deck, the woman’s thanks ringing in her ears.

-

What awaited the fiery-haired bombshell on the command deck was truly something inspired by her deepest nightmares… and yet, somehow, far, far worse…

-

There, in the midst of all, stood the Avengers.

Thor and Hulk were merrily singing loud, bawdy songs about busty women, buff men and surprisingly erotic dragons… it didn’t make a lot of sense, as they were slurring quite significantly; but the reasoning for that was evident by the large stack of uncorked and empty barrels pooled about them over emptied desks and stations in the command centre. Several of those stations were in general disarray, broken or simply covered in who-knows-what… 

Captain America looked to be shouting commands from behind the electrified barrier in the meeting room doorway; not that anyone could hear him, it was sound and bullet-proof, deployed in emergency…  
Useful in the past, but right now, it seemed at the very edge of it’s limit trying to restrained the outraged super-soldier -even a shieldless one.

Her eyes widened to note where the shield had ended up, wedged into some technological interpretation of a ship’s steering wheel, apparently routed through a series of uprooted cables from the command deck floor, plugged directly into the flight and directional subroutines.

Tony Stark was Iron Man.

Tony Stark was in charge of the Helicarrier….

…Iron Man was trashed out of his goddamn mind and in charge of a giant secret base full of several hundred people, hovering over a city of millions, and giggling at a certain Archer wearing a wig and mini-skirt.

Correction. A certain Master Assassin Archer wearing Fury’s fluro pink wig, and her favourite miniature skirt that he’d bought her for Christmas two years back in a secret santa thing they’d been forced to do.  
It did show off his thighs to great advantage (and reminded her of Budapest), but in combination with the wig, was not overall very flattering on Hawkeye… 

The pair were loudly singing ‘Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of Rum’ at the top of their lungs. 

-

With snake-like efficiency, Black Widow slid up behind Hawkeye and jabbed three fingers into a certain nerve cluster near the spine; he keeled over unconscious halfway through a ‘bottle of rum’, leaving only Tony’s voice tremulously continuing. 

He paused on noting the arrival of Natasha, pointing at her with two fingers and taking a step too far towards her before apparently losing balance and falling over. The shield ‘wheel’ he gripped spun violently thanks to the momentum, Black Widow raced to stop it as Tony grumbled, “Argh, Me Hearties” and giggling.

The Helicarrier veered to the right with all the subtlety of an elephant doing a backflip. 

With gritted teeth, Natasha fought the shield-wheel for control and forced it back to the original position, feeling the engines and rotors strain to maintain gyroscopic stability.

She stood up slowly, becoming ramrod straight and menacing in an instant; carefully pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. Glare falling down to the semi-prone Tony, where he was poking the out-to-it Clint and murmuring random half-sentences about ideas that flittered through his genius mind.

-

An almighty thunk from across the command deck signified Hulk keeling over into sleep, reverting sluggishly back into the smaller form of Bruce Banner; over whom, Thor made several attempts of draping his blood orange cloak, before finally managing to do so.

It was almost… adorable, you could say.

-

Natasha looked down upon the drunken genius billionaire philanthropist with a deadly eyebrow cocked, conveying a myriad of emotions.

"Tony…" she began, waiting until he rolled over like a floppy fish, to stare at her before continuing. "Tony… how drunk are you right now?"

"N’tsha, I’m… not drunk?" he slurred back, adding a diphthong to his speech so as to make it a question; as if utterly incredulous she could even ask such a thing of him. "Y’r jus’… arc-reactoring…"

He lost it. Just utterly lost it, laughing at his terrible little pun while she shook her head and huffed out a sigh. 

-

Shattering glass and a loud crackling sound announced to the entire emptied bridge section that Steve had broken free, and was now storming across towards them.

"Widow, I’ve got this…" he said, stopping beside her to look down at Tony -who appeared to be dozing off, drooling a little bit. 

She gave a small smile back, “Good luck with that. I have no idea what you see in him… I’ll deal with Thunder God over there, then drag Clint back to his quarters…”

Captain America hauled the floppy Man of Iron to his feet and picked him up, as Natasha turned away. He called after her, “You know, perhaps we should get them all to Stark Tower, I have a feeling Fury might do something terrible if we leave them here in vulnerable states.”

She gave a curt nod, noticeable from behind only as a slight bobbing of blood-red curls; striding towards Thor with determination.

-

"Ah, ‘tis the Lady of Arachnid Bereavement, most assuredly you are welcome! Come, have some of this strange purple liquid that the Man of Iron procured for us in one of his laboratories, it is of a unique flavour, but nonetheless delicious." He boomed at her, swaying upright and lifting various casks, attempting to locate a partially empty one for Natasha to have a drink from.

 It was sweet of him, most courteous; she almost felt sorry… as she lifted the Mighty Mjolnir and cracked the Asguardian Princeling one over the head, sending him tumbling down like an imploding building. 

This did send a pang deep into her chest, felling a teammate in such a violent manner; but the image of cracking Hawkeye’s skull against a rail during the Tesseract incident flashed in her mind, and reminded her that sometimes it was necessary.

Like, now, for instance… wherein she and Steve needed to get all their teammates off of the Helicarrier before Fury returned from meeting with the new President, and found… well,  _this_ …

-

Natasha was tossing Clint into the last emergency med bunk in a transport shuttle found in the nearest hangar bay to the command deck; not unkindly, just in a bit of a rush. Captain America strode in to place Bruce beside him, sort of squishing them together a little in the confined space.

If asked later, the great and almighty Black Widow would of course deny that she took a quick snapchat of them and uploaded it to a private, highly encrypted profile. Leaving just enough breadcrumbs for Tony or Clint to unravel later on and find it…

-

Steve was just taking his place in the pilot’s seat when the Hangar Bay door alarm began piercing through the cavernous metal space. Natasha slammed a fist into the button that retracted the gangplank and shut all external hatches of the shuttle, practically throwing herself into the co-pilot seat and sliding on her headgear…

Their engine roared to life, both Captain America and Black Widow gripping the steering wheels as the hangar bay doors opened, parting to allow a large imperial black command transport shuttle entrance.   
Director Fury had returned.

They could see him glaring at them through the windshield, like he knew exactly what they had done; but there was no time for that now, the bay doors were shutting, and they needed to leave.

The shuttle lifted off of the Hangar Bay floor, rising steadily for a few seconds, then shooting forwards through the still-parted exit doors.

Free.

-

Even as they set down on the Hanger Bay atop STARK Tower, and Natasha questioned how the hell she let herself get drawn into such unnecessary shenanigans.

Tony was mumbling things, spread flat out across the broad expanse of Thor on one medi-bed; Clint spooning Bruce, who seemed to be more aware than he was pretending, and not really doing anything about it.   
It was a little depressing when you realised that it was probably the first time someone had even pseudo-hugged him since he became the Hulk…

"Funny, one of the last thoughts in my head when I crashed was that I would never have kids," Steve said, climbing out of the pilot seat. "Never realised I’d end up with three fully-grown ones I’d have to watch twenty-four hours a day. Careful what you wish for and all that…"

Tossing Banner over one shoulder, and shaking Hawkeye semi-aware, Natasha smirked. “Well, I don’t know about you… but I’m not exactly Motherly, so I suppose that title falls to you, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes and grinned, watching Tony jerk awake and fall out of bed as he dragged Thor in a semblance of upright. The Man of Iron standing up briefly to climb onto his boyfriend for a piggyback before falling back asleep…

"Fine, Daddy… let’s get the kids to bed."

The Assassin and the Super-Soldier strode out of the ‘misappropriated’ transport shuttle, carrying their unruly, drunken super-children; and smiling, sharing a secret joke that they would mercilessly remind the others of at a later date.

—-

Meanwhile, back on the Helicarrier, Director Nick Fury was having a mild aneurysm, surveying the damage done to his secret base in the brief absence required to inform the new Madam President of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s existence and purpose.

Sometimes he questioned the wisdom of bringing those powerful, resourceful and deadly individuals together as a team; they were good last line of defence when it came to the protection of the Earth… but they were also a bunch of motherfucking idiots with far too many issues to have super-powers or be trained in the deadly arts.

He stared at the mangled mess of his command bridge in disbelief, noting the chaotic destruction of utterly everything.

Fury took a deep breath.

He took two.

Nope, that shit just wasn’t working in the ‘calm down’ department today.

-

In a voice loud enough to be heard all the way below in STARK Tower, Director Nick Fury shouted,   
"I AM SICK TO GOD OF THESE MOTHERFUCKING AVENGERS, DESTROYING MY MOTHERFUCKING HELICARRIER!"

——

**[The End]**

[Also known as ‘I had no idea how to end this fic, so it rambled and I had to physically tell you when it ended]


End file.
